


Peeping Tom

by Catherine_Morland



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Community: sherlockbbc_fic, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-10
Updated: 2010-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 00:52:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catherine_Morland/pseuds/Catherine_Morland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the top of Anderson's extensive list of things he didn't want to see was Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peeping Tom

**Author's Note:**

> For [this prompt](http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/575.html?thread=542783#t542783) on sherlockbbc-fic: Accidental voyeur Anderson sees John and Sherlock having sex in his forensics lab at New Scotland Yard. He is horrified at how hot he finds them. Sherlock doesn't notice him but John does.

At the top of Anderson's extensive list of things he didn't want to see was Sherlock Holmes. A no-good interfering busy-body who would one day snap and kill them all. An insufferable bastard who got his successes through mere conjecture and guesswork. An utter pillock (and it was usually at this point that Anderson reached for the dictionary for more disparaging descriptions). Especially now he had that doctor-friend, he'd become even more difficult to work with. It was rare to see Holmes with Watson standing nearby, even rarer to see Watson on his own. Both more involved in the Yard's cases than they had any right to be. Prancing around like they owned the crime-scenes, it was deeply irritating to someone who liked to do things by the rules.

It was an early Spring-day. It was late, he was tired, and seeing through the window in the door the familiar figure coming towards him did nothing to improve his mood. "Holmes, what an unexpected pleasure, and by that I mean 'unmitigated disaster'," he said to the pair as they entered the forensics lab. "When are you leaving?" He ignored the doctor, who ignored him in turn.  
"Just here to look at some evidence in the McKillickan-case," Holmes said, an undertone of amusement in his voice. He took off his coat, tugging at his scarf.  
"That's my case!" Anderson was livid.  
"Then we got here just in time, didn't we, John?" Sherlock glanced at the doctor at his side, one corner of his mouth curled up in a grin. The doctor returned a quick flash of a smile.  
"Indeed we are, Sherlock. Out, Anderson." He pointed at the door.  
Anderson gaped. "You can't tell me what to do in my own lab!"  
"But he just did. Be a dear and close the door as you go. Your voice is grating on my nerves."  
"He doesn't have many left as is. So unless you want to see him snap..." the doctor said.  
Anderson left in a huff and a hurry, missing hearing Holmes mutter to the doctor "Really, that was uncalled for, wasn't it?" He had no desire to see Holmes snap. It'd take days to clean up the mess. 'Next drugs-bust, I take apart half their kitchen.' He called his wife to let her know he'd be home late: he had paperwork to catch up on, and he was too rattled to leave.

He returned to the lab a couple of hours later, both to see the intruders had gone, and to recheck some possible mislabelled samples. Approaching the door, he could see the lights were still on, and he groaned. 'Irresponsible' jumped to the top of the list as he was about to open the door, but what he saw through the window stopped him.  
Holmes was bent over a table, leaning on his arms, head hanging down. The doctor was standing behind him, over him, hands on Holmes's hips to keep him steady, moving against him. They were shagging in his lab. How dared they! He should barge in there, demand them to stop, but found he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to interrupt them, not knowing what the consequences would be.  
Through the door he could vaguely hear Holmes. Anderson nudged it open with one foot, careful not to disturb them.   
"Please John, harder. God, yes, like that," Holmes was pleading.   
Heat was rising to Anderson's face, after dropping a small hot ball in the pit of his stomach. He could feel himself getting aroused, and that was ridiculous, he wasn't into gay sex, or attracted to either idiot inside in the lab, but the intense sound of Holmes's voice and the determination in the doctor's face was getting to him and his hand dropped of its own accord to the front of his pants, groping for his awakening cock.  
The doctor, who had been quiet apart from the occasional grunt, looked up, straight into Anderson's face. Without breaking his momentum, he grinned a wide smile, lifting one hand and sliding it underneath and in front of the writhing body underneath him. He didn't take his eyes off Anderson, still smiling widely. Holmes groaned loudly as the doctor's hand closed around his cock, his breath coming out in harsh gasps as the doctor moved his hand up and down. His face contorted and he let out a loud "Fuck, John!". He collapsed on the table as far as he could, the doctor still moving in and out, licking the come off his hand before he came himself with a single, harsh groan. He rested his head on Holmes's back for a moment, before straightening up again and looking at Anderson again. He ran his hand along Holmes's side in a way that spoke of possession.   
Anderson squeezed himself, jumping at the sensation. He moved away from the door. They..., in _his_ lab..., what-? Did anyone else know? For a moment he felt he'd got one over on Holmes, but then he remembered the doctor watching him, and the feeling left him. He'd better get home, before his wife got worried.

The next morning he spent in cleaning the table to lab-specifications, just to be sure. His temper did not improve when Donovan stalked in, exclaiming "Did you hear? The freaks've solved our McKillican-case!"  
'Next drugs-bust, I'm taking apart their _entire_ kitchen.'


End file.
